Moonlit Waters
by WalkingAlone2
Summary: Who will Poseidon meet while meditating at Montauk's beach? A short story about the King of the Seas encountering a certain queen among women.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or any Rick Riordan-related content! All characters are his own. Thank you for reading my story, please give your thoughts.**

The waves cascaded onto Montauk's beach, spraying water that refracted the colors of the rainbow. Instead of dissipating, the wind blew from opposite sides to push the ocean spray together. The mist began to collect and swirl in the air, quickly growing into a small, multi-colored cyclone of water that raged on for nearly a half-second. The beautiful rainbow colors were then replaced by a radiant golden until all the mist disappeared, replaced by Poseidon himself.

He had taken human form, though this form felt slightly sick due to the pollution in the waters. Along with this physical form, he materialized a black shirt and windbreaker jacket, as well as dark blue jeans. Though he was usually fond of Hawaiian print clothes, this endeavor favored stealth over bright fashion statements.

With a thought, the sea breezes whirling around him subsided. It was one of the first days of summer, and the night felt warm and comfortable. Humidity began to gather around where he was positioned.

He felt solid sand and rock beneath him for the first time in a while. He had spent three hundred years dealing with geopolitical schemes within Atlantis, not allowing him any time to come to one of his favorite lands; Montauk.

To his right, the shore was outlined by jagged brown rocks that nearly looked to be shaped in the _omega_ symbol around the island. Though there were rocks in front of him as well, they were not as jagged or sharp as the ones to his right. In fact, the entire rock structure seemed to be receding in size and sharpness as it passed Poseidon and stretched to his left. On his left, the rocks grew progressively smaller in size until it became beautiful sand and grass. The rocks were enclosing the true treasure of Montauk; the lighthouse. The white and brown structure had been standing since the late 1700's, giving it an authenticity and humility that Poseidon could not find anywhere else.

In front of him, the border of rocks led into a steep hill of grassy plains and sand, which revealed a small collection of brown, gray, and white buildings that surrounded the lighthouse. They all glowed in the moonlight.

Illuminated by the light of Artemis, Poseidon began his trek to the top of the hill. As the altitude increased, he began to sense ozone in the air, the signature indicator of his younger brother's presence. Though Poseidon admitted that Zeus was powerful, he climbed with no fear. He believed that Montauk's lighthouse was one of the greatest areas in the world, and after collaboration with Zeus, the spot served as a neutral area for the both of them.

He reached the top of the hill and walked up the road leading to the lighthouse. It was flanked by a smaller, gray-bricked building that looked to be more traditional of humans' houses. Growing bored of walking, he willed himself to the top of the lighthouse. Water formed out of the air and blew into a cyclone of mist once more, materializing him inside the top of the lighthouse. The view was divided into several rectangular panels with faded golden trim. Poseidon puts his hands on one of the windows and looked out to the sea.

Even in the moonlight, the water was a luminescent blue and crashed against the elevated green land, like a miniscule version of the union between his grandparents Uranus and Gaea. _Δύναμη_ flowed through his limbs and he simultaneously heard and saw everything going on in the Atlantic Ocean at once.

Multiple things were pulling him. The first was a strong energy signature emanating from the center of the portion of the ocean he was looking at. The energy was pulling at his core like a child tugging at his parents' hand. Poseidon knew that the source of this tug was his throne in Atlantis; it was pulling him towards it. The second pull was that of the moon; it seemed to be pushing and pulling his energy along with the ocean's waves. The third was that of Olympus, a familiar energy that was providing him an open line to ride the winds to his family's home.

Poseidon closed his eyes. As a god, he was simultaneously at the Montauk Lighthouse, commanding a rescue mission in off the coast of Athens, training his son Triton, and fighting a beast in the Sea of Monsters. To prepare for what he was about to do, he called all his energy to his presence at Montauk. As a safeguard to implement before falling into meditation, Poseidon opened his hand. The water vapor in the air contorted, focused, and erupted into mist that formed into his golden trident. He felt _δύναμη_ enflame his aura as if he was back on his throne in Atlantis. In the past, monsters and lesser gods have demonstrated the ability to sense when a god is meditating/distracted, and some of the bolder creatures have tried to attack deities in the past.

In that moment, as if shutting off a light, he switched off all the pulls and blocked his connection to his throne. Instantly, all the voices, feelings, and sights that he was sensing were silenced. Now, all Poseidon saw and heard were the strong blue waves that were decorated with an ethereal moonlight-based shimmer.

Keeping his eyes on the view, he fell into the meditation that Pasithea taught him. He reached deep into his core and focused on what he found there. The Graces were talented at teaching new gods strategies that would help them grow comfortable enough with their power to utilize it effectively. Though Poseidon was not a new god, he constantly took trips to Pasithea to learn the newest method of relaxation, meditation, and focus.

His being hummed with divine force. With all his energy concentrated at that spot and him cutting off his power, Poseidon was simultaneously at full power and powerless.

Being here always allowed him an area to think and gave him a spot to momentarily escape the responsibilities of being the God of the Seas.

Montauk was divine.

After a short time, he felt an energy signature climbing the lighthouse steadily and methodically. The signature was a level one.

A human.

To Poseidon, humans were interesting. Initially, he saw all of them as humans see animals; as living beings, but somewhat inferior regarding ability, power, lifespan, and intelligence. They could be cute at times, but for the most part, he felt more comfortable letting them run around as long as they did not get in his way.

However, he quickly learned that as the human beings reached adulthood, they accumulated and wielded their own individual intelligences, skills, and personalities. Some of those people were glorious to behold and elicited Poseidon's favor. Nowadays, he was quite fond of humans and simply treated them as less powerful, less intelligent gods. All humans were classified at level one, a system that Ares introduced to rank an individual's ability. Smaller monsters were generally in the hundreds, larger monsters were generally in the four or five hundreds, and gods were somewhere in the lower thousands. One thing Poseidon always found fascinating was that demigods could be anywhere from level one to one thousand, depending on the parent and the pool of godly energy that the child drew from.

The human got closer to the top of the lighthouse and Poseidon, as a god, could feel their attitude and emotions. The human was feeling unbridled joy and comfort.

Poseidon tore himself out of his meditation. Power flowed back into his body like someone dumped a bucket of water on him. He watched the door to the top of the lighthouse in anticipation. He knew he should disappear before the human arrived, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He noted that this human's vibe was simply delightful.

The door opened and a human woman danced through it. Her hips and neck were moving in conjunction with a silent rhythm. She wore a black shirt that was tucked into light blue pants. The woman wore black shoes with white trim and light blue laces. She had two bracelets on; one had several brown and white beads on them and the other was made of blue and white fabric. The latter seemed worn out, as if she had owned it for quite a while. The white in the bracelet was nearly brown while the dark blue had faded to a lighter hue.

She held a mop and was using it as a makeshift microphone during her performance. While the mop was in one hand, a bucket of cleaning liquid was in the other. As she spun around and danced, the cleaning liquid splashed either onto the floor or on her pants. Clipped to her side was a spray bottle and three washcloths.

When Poseidon saw her face, he was at a loss of words for the first time in a century.

She was one of the most beautiful creatures he has seen, and he personally knew both Aphrodite and Eros. She had long brown hair that was tied in something humans called a "horse-tail" (or so Poseidon thought). Several strands stuck up and others stuck to her damp forehead. Her features were both pretty and homey, and she gave off the same type of energy that reminded him of the goddess Hestia and the nymph Calypso. She had deep blue eyes with a vivacious sparkle to them that rejuvenated Poseidon more than any meditation could.

By herself, this woman filled the room with happiness and warmth. She smelled of chocolate and licorice and every time she moved, a wave of sugary fragrance would carry Poseidon out to sea in her eyes.

The human slid and spun around the circular room, using her mop to clean the floor with the cleaning liquid that was spilled in her routine. Once she completed the spin, she saw him.

Poseidon saw her.

She saw him.

The human woman froze in place like Kronos had touched her. Her left hand that was holding the bucket was raised in the air and she was balancing on one leg. Poseidon sensed her emotions flickering from the previous joy and comfort to shock and shame.

The human's ocean blue eyes trailed from his own to the trident he was holding in his hand. Poseidon cursed to himself and erected a strong layer of Mist over his godly weapon to make it look like a fishing pole. He then cleared his throat.

" _Erm…_ hello, madam."

The woman's mouth was still agape as she continued to stare at the trident. Her fingers gave out and the bucket fell to the ground, spilling the cleaning liquid. As the liquid reached Poseidon's feet, he gave the woman a smile and intensified the divine Mist around the trident.

The woman blinked a few times, cocked her head and shot him a smile that rivaled Apollo's own. She took off her black and light blue headphones and let it rest around her neck. Watching her made Poseidon's godly core brighten a bit.

The woman's voice was even and leveled, with a hint of what Poseidon has come to recognize as a "New York accent." Poseidon did not sense fear within her, only peace.

"I'm sorry, I just spazzed out right there. I was just dancing and I just didn't...well, I'm just the cleaning lady here. But even though this is a fantastic view, unfortunately, the lighthouse is closed. We'll open back up tomorrow at eight o'clock. There is an eight dollar fee for parking, though, so watch out for that."

If he had not already registered her power level, he would have assumed she was a minor goddess. Her composure, attitude, and beauty exuded divinity. However, like the lighthouse, she exuded an authenticity and humility that was charming as well.

What captured Poseidon even further was her eyes. Her eyes seemed clearer than other mortals, and even though he had strong levels of Mist around himself and his weapon, her eyes were focused on them as if she _saw_ them clearly.

Curious of how clear her sight was, Poseidon held up his weapon.

"What is this?"

The woman's smile faltered as she regarded what was in his hand. "Uh, it looks like a large fork. Almost like a trident, but that would be weird if I guessed that and I was wrong."

Poseidon's throat constricted. He had tried to come to Montauk when most of the mortals around there would be sleeping, so if anything happened, their sanity would be preserved and he would not dismantle their modern Judeo-Christian beliefs. However, this woman was an anomaly. With the expansion of technology, the number of clear-sighted mortals had decreased over the years. As individuals' attention spans and creativity decreased, so did their sight. However, she could see the trident through the Mist.

Poseidon took a breath and opened his hands. The water vapor in the circular area bent and condensed to dissolve the trident into mist and bubbles.

The woman's smile returned, but Poseidon sensed some uneasiness behind her eyes.

"Oh, a magician! How fun."

Poseidon frowned. He hated when mortals discounted his power or labeled it as fake.

"It is not magic. This is divine energy."

"Okay, buddy. Whatever it is, I'm going to need you to do it outside of here."

Her entire aura had changed. She now had gone from uneasiness to resolve. Her smile had melted off her face and he saw her hand creeping towards her belt buckle. Poseidon found himself wanting to do whatever it took to appease this oncoming tide of anger.

This mortal woman had demanded something from him and he felt compelled to oblige. He had not felt this way since his mother Rhea yelled at him to play nice with his siblings.

Thoroughly impressed by this woman, Poseidon laughed loudly and heartily.

"Madam, you are absolutely beautiful."

Her aura slowly changed from resolve to conflicted. She brushed a few loose hairs down to her horse's tail, to no avail. They stuck right back up like they were charged with electricity. Though she tried to contain it, her smile burst free in full glory. Her cheeks began to turn a light red/pink.

"Aw, you have me blushing."

Poseidon's eyes bore into hers.

"Is that a good thing?"

She looked up at him. For a second, Poseidon thought he saw a twinkle of mischief.

"Why, yes, it is."

They shared a smile. Again, his core seemed to brighten.

"Do you like working here?"

The woman maintained eye contact. "Sorry?"

Poseidon watched her blue eyes begin to move quickly. "Do you enjoy working here? As a cleaner?"

"Ah, I don't dislike it. It pays some of the bills. It helps keep me honest, builds a bit of discipline here and there."

The woman grabbed her mop and started to sweep it slowly across the now-dry floor.

"Then why is a beautiful woman like yourself cleaning lighthouses? You should be nobility, operating at the top of the rungs of society. When I first saw you, I thought you were a minor Roman goddess."

"You're sweet. But cleaning Montauk Light isn't the only job I have, sweetheart. And flirting with me isn't going to make me let you stay up here."

Poseidon smiled and looked out to the starry backdrop to the now active ocean.

"I was not aware I was flirting."

The woman stopped mopping for a second. "What?! You called me a-"

She then lowered her voice, added a thick Greek accent to emulate Poseidon's own voice, and pounded her mop handle as if it was her own trident.

"-beautiful woman who should be the queen of all things, not doing some lowly cleaning job at a lighthouse. Kneel before me before I stab you with my magical trident."

Poseidon raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you think I sound like?"

Her mischief sparkled once more. "You sound…exactly like that. Now please leave here, King Triton, before I have to call security."

Poseidon's words stuck in his throat. She was an immortal; she knew about his son. However, she was a mortal…he wondered how much she knew.

"King…Triton...?"

Her mouth fell agape. "King…Triton…? From The Little Mermaid? He also had a fork/trident…thing. You've never seen The Little Mermaid?"

After seeing the expression on his face, she waved her hand dismissively.

"Never mind. Never…never mind."

Cool relief washed through his limbs. He glided past her and towards the door. Before leaving the room, though, he turned and flashed her a grin.

"Will you be working tomorrow?"

The woman seemed surprised at first, but turned away and went back to mopping the floor, methodically and steadily.

"Yes, I will be. But I won't see you, right? Because you won't break in again, right?"

"No promises, Cleaning Lady."

"My name is Sally."

Poseidon's grin widened. "Sally. It's nice to meet you, Sally."

He exited the room. Instead of going down the lighthouse, he began to concentrate the water vapor in the air. Before he left, he heard her call out, "Wait! I never got your name!"

He heard quick footsteps and the door flung open a split-second after he completely dissolved into rainbow-colored mist. Even as he traveled to his throne and his royal family, one word was stamped onto his mind.

 _Sally._

Translations

 _ **Δύναμη/ δύναμη**_ _ **-**_ **Power**


End file.
